Under A Street Lamp
by Blonde Hurricane
Summary: Somewhere under a street lamp, two blondes sit together... RizaJean. Oneshot. No spoilers or warnings.


_Summery: Somewhere under a street lamp, two blondes sit together... RizaJean. One-shot. No spoilers or warnings.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own FMA, I don't make a profit writing fan fiction, and... damnit, I'm out of cigarettes._

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**Under A Street Lamp**

It's a spot in the park, where the street lamp, next to a wooden bench, is broken. Maybe one of the few places in the city where you don't have to squint to see the stars. It's quiet and mostly deserted around this time of night. Especially now around this time of year. Its cold and most people aren't willing to venture through the park just for a lark.

She leans her head against his chest, moving closer to him for warmth, even tucking her legs under her as she curls next to him in an attempt to horde body heat. He smiles down a moment at the blonde resting against him and he pulls her coat so it covers her better since he gets the impression that she doesn't plan to move her arms from around his torso any time soon. Not that he's complaining. It is cold and her body does feel nice beside his. His hand falls back to its light hold at her waist and his gaze goes back to the sky.

It's cloudy tonight, but he looks for stars out of habit, part of him hoping that he might glimpse one or two between the passing clouds, the rest of him not really caring. Meanwhile she's absorbed in his smoking, the slight rise and fall of his chest, the thin hiss he makes when he pulls on the cigarette and the sound of rushing air as he exhales. Smoke dances in front of her eyes for a moment, catching the light of some lamp far away before fading into darkness.

It's just this spot right here, only late into the night, that they can act like this out in the open. They both know it might be the closest they ever come to acting like a normal couple in public. It's the one place, aside from their residences', where they can relax from the Military's strangle hold. They both know the consequences for fraternization in the Military, and the trouble they would be in if some the higher-ups ever found out about some of the things they did when alone together. What's worse, neither of them knows what might happen if Mustang ever found out.

He thinks some times that if someone did spot them, they probably wouldn't be recognized anyway.

"No, that guy looks too relaxed to be Jean Havoc."

"No, that girl looks too attractive to be with Havoc."

"No, I doubt Riza Hawkeye would cling to anyone like that."

"No he looks too tall. No her hair is too long. No, his hair looks too dark. No her eyes are too light. What would Riza Hawkeye be doing a guy like Jean Havoc anyway? Its hard to tell, its dark out here."

He imagines that they would look different to a passerby because they seem like different people when they are like this. She smiles more, she laughs, she's playful, and sweet when she wants to be. He certainly feels different. He feels calmer, happier, and...and he isn't sure just how he feels, just that he likes what she makes him feel.

She hates it. She hates the way her stomach flips when he walks through her door. She hates how her breath catches when he kisses her neck. She hates that she gets worried about him if he's late. She hates when she finds herself thinking about him. She hates that it's become clear that what they have isn't just about sex because it would be so damn easier if it were. But what she hates most is that she enjoys every bit of it.

There's a pause in his breathing, then an exhale without smoke, and she looks up to find him smashing out the last of his cigarette. He flicks the dead cigarette into a near by trashcan without a second thought and goes back to star gazing, her vision catches the broken lamp behind him. She's pretty sure one of them might shoot out that lamp if the maintenance department ever got around to actually fixing it. What she doesn't know is that he is pretty sure of what rifle he'd use and where he would shoot from, should the situation ever arise. ...Hey it's always good to be prepared.

Her head drops back down and she closes her eyes. She's starting to feel tired but she doesn't feel like leaving just yet. Something twinkles and catches his eye. For a brief moment he thinks it's a star, till he sees another twinkle. He squints at the sky trying to figure it out and it isn't till something cold and moist hits hit forehead that it dawns on him.

"Hey Riza look," he says, nudging her slightly till she opens her eyes and sits up, "Look, its snowing."

Her brow furrows for a second as she looks around, "What are you-" she stops when a puff of snow floats into view. Soon, the air is filled with little flurries of snowflakes falling from the sky.

She smiles. "Its lovely..."

"Yeah," he agrees, looking over at her. He can just make out her features, and for a moment he wishes the lamp would work so he could see her face more clearly. The arm he has around her tightens to pull her alittle closer and he adds, "Yeah it is."

They watch the snow falling around them, some of her weight leaning against him as he holds her. Her hand reaches up to tenderly touch his face and he practically falls into the warm palm on his cheek. Only because her hand is warm and not because her touch feels tender.

He feels cold as ice under her fingertips and it worries her slightly. They have been out here awhile, "Maybe its time we got back."

"What's your rush to get back?" he asks. The cocky grin and innuendo in his voice are lost on her.

"No rush," she says, resting her head on his shoulder to assure him, she's really in no hurry to leave, "It just feels cold out here..."

He sighs then kisses the top of her head. "Just a couple more minutes." It comes out as more of a statement than the question it was supposed to be. She smiles as she continues to watch the snow falling. A couple more minutes out here sounds just fine to her right now.

She doesn't know what they have together. Neither of them do. And neither of them is sure about their feelings for the other. And neither of them is sure of how the other feels about them. And they don't know what people might think. And they don't even know how it was this all happened or when they began to care for each other like this.

They just know... that its here, in this spot in the park where the street lamp is broken...

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A/N: ...My head was in a weird place when I wrote this. Sorry if it's confusing. I don't even know how you would classify this story (tragic romance, sweet, emotional?). If you have any ideas on what this sort of story is called, please review. 


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